A West Wind from the Gulf.

0646/1830 56/65 Blue Skies W 20/30 60%H
DOGS 10408 8088 1141 1722.

Greetings from the Hill.

A bit of a chilly day in paradise,
classics from Havana, cats on the table,
talking tits across the hallway,
sunshine on the balcony.

Perusing the Internet blogs,
Denninger, Shedlock, Roubini,
Asia Times, New York Times,
Globe and Mail, Key West Citizen,
paper rags gone into space
for cripples who cannot leave
their place...
the oldman walked to Faustos.

"The Wives of Wall Street",
smiled the oldman to the 'artist',
snooping about for something new,
languishing in lethargy,
more procrastination on Love Lane,
constipation in his brain.

"It's a reality show for HBO,
somewhat like the Bravo Channel,
House Wives of Wherever,
but with the richest bitches,
snotty elitist cunts",
chuckled the oldfart.

The fellow shook his head
in the four o'clock sun
and pulled out a skinny one.

With a grin on his face.

"Imagine living 'up there',
trying to understand 'them'",
he shrugged.

Krugman ignored his comments.

Joe Bageant was an exile self imposed.

The laundry was in the backyard sun.

Getting disturbed over the rhetoric
of the Professor in the White House
would recall Woodrow and House,
who had Obama's mind????

Was he still a Muslim??????

A Zen Buddist with a rosary
or sitting on Dimon's knee.

A Trillion dollar DEBT MASTER
to the KINGS of FIAT.

Did the Dunce understand DEBT.

"Not very fucking likely,
another shill on the Hill",
growled the madone
bringing in the laundry
fresh from the breeze
in the florid keys.

Another sunset
in paradise.